After a few days on the Gulf Coast of Florida for work I flew up to Washington D.C. for another event. Due to a miscommunication regarding the schedule, my flight home left me with a 36 hour window to explore the region however I wanted. While touring the National Mall (something I've done before) was obviously an option, a friend and I decided that exploring Shenandoah National Park was an infinitely better use of time. It is with great pleasure that I write today's post featuring a once-pivitol and popular character of this blog: my friend Pneumo. A resident of northern Virginia, he was able to travel about twenty minutes from home to get me from the Gaylord National hotel along the Potomac. We returned to his house to drop off my bags, picked up a breakfast burrito from a local restaurant, and began the two hour drive southwest towards Shenandoah National Park. As we hopped up on the highway we debated what we'd be hiking, whether or not we wanted to revisit the Appalachian Trail or find another route to undertake. Seeing as I had just spent over a hundred miles on the Trail itself I wasn't thrilled at the idea of hiking on it again just yet, at which point he suggested a favorite hike about 20 miles from the park's famous Skyline Drive entrance. We'd be undertaking Old Rag Mountain, a 9.1 mile loop over a jagged and rocky summit with just under 2,500' of elevation gain. In my research since returning from the trail I've learned it is the 2nd most popular hike in the Shenandoahs per TripAdvisor.com, and the National Park Service calls it their "most popular and dangerous" attraction in the park… interesting, but understandable!

Parking in the lower lot at the end of a sleepy Virginia backroad we deposited the nominal Forestry Service parking fee before beginning our trek up the paved road to where the trail actually began. It honestly must have been quite the comical sight, the two of us moving along. Since I packed for Florida weather and work, my most appropriate outfit for this was a pair of jeans, New Balance polyester top, and my typical NB trail runners. We each sported a black backpack, but moved along with the pace of people who have done a fair bit of hiking. Upon reaching the upper parking lot, chained off for the winter, we turned sharply left onto a wide dirt trail that began our ascent up the mountain. It was such a shock to be on a wide and easily discernible trail, a stark comparison to the hours of difficult navigation I had recently spent on the A.T. up in Vermont. Pneumo admitted he hadn't done a lot of hiking recently, and his breathing got heavier as he followed me up the mountain. With occasional and gentle switchbacks, we watched the valley floor drop below us as trees became even more sparse and the terrain more steeply sloped. As we made our way further to the top the north side of the trail we were hiking became covered with snow that hadn't yet seen sunlight or temperatures that would have allowed it to melt. Stopping for a quick break at a false summit, our first open vista, we snapped some photos before continuing upwards towards the 3,284-foot peak. The terrain became much different after that first overlook, turning to massive boulders that required hand-over-hand climbing to get up and over. Some of these rocks, measuring nearly thirty feet tall, appeared to have once split apart from each other creating narrow gaps through which the trail traversed. This part was fantastically fun, reminding me of the scramble up Maine's Katahdin, and at some points required squeezing my backpack ahead of myself in order to shimmy through the crevices. We climbed up and out of one boulder formation to be greeted with a mixture of barely discernable light snow and rain, a product of the windy and low-40s weather outside. Clouds flew overhead as we walked over the top of more rocks, descending into the trees for a hundred feet or so before we came across a lone signpost proclaiming distances to the summit, the rock scramble, and the parking lot where we came from.

We took the short side trail to Old Rag Mountain's true summit, climbing up the highest boulder, quickly observing our surroundings before hopping back down and more thoroughly analyzing the sign to see what distance lay between us and the car. A quick snack was provided courtesy of the Delta airlines biscoff cookies I keep in my backpack before we glanced at our watches and began descending the mountain. At this point it was 1430hrs, not at all bad for a two hour, 4.8 mile trek from where we began. The trail itself is a loop of sorts, with just over 5 miles of trail remaining until we got back to the car. The opposite side of the mountain where the route took us was exposed to much more sunlight than the face we ascended, and the dirt was more of a thick mud than anything else. Slipping a bit here and there we continued downward at a great pace, though missing each joking about how our knees would hurt the next day. Halfway down the mountain's moderate descent we came across the Byrd's Nest Shelter, a stone building designed as a day-use facility for hikers in the summer, though it was closed up and locked for the winter months. It was shortly after passing the shelter that we came across the first people we'd seen since leaving the parking lot, a young couple also making their way down the mountain. Pneumo and I carried on our conversation, and they took notice of the fact that we were behind them… I guess we're used to a bit more courteous hiking, because after a few minutes it was Pneumo that spoke up to ask if we could pass them. No issues, they immediately stepped aside and we moved along down the trail. Passing one more couple in the next half-mile stretch, we eventually made it down to the Forest Service road that wraps its way up the side of the mountain. Turning east, we walked at a comfortable pace down the wide dirt road back towards the trailhead.

Making a brief stop to photograph a few waterfalls before reaching the car, we pulled into the parking lot around 1630hrs. To our astonishment, Pneumo's red Subaru had been joined by a large, colorfully unique motor vehicle… none other than the Oscar Meyer Wienermobile. I have zero idea as to why this thing was parked in a dirt lot at the end of a backcountry road in the hillsides of western Virginia, but alas there it was. We snapped some photos of it before packing up in our own car and heading back towards the highway. I asked that we stop so I could get a few photos of some fascinating cloud formations behind a barn and rolling terrain on our way back, which my friend gladly accommodated. A chicken-parm dinner at an Italian restaurant local to him served as our dinner after the 9+ mile hike, and we enjoyed a beer by a fire in his family's backyard before crashing for the night.

I flew back to Boston this morning and will have a few days here before heading out again. It was fantastic to see my friend and to hike with him for the first time since we parted ways shortly before the New York state line on the Appalachian Trail almost 2 and a half years ago. We've made some plans to meet up this summer and hopefully do some more hiking, which I'll very much look forward to. In the mean time, I'll just have to find mini-adventures wherever I can.

I'll warn you: this may be the longest blog post in the brief history of 2180 Miles. Possibly also the longest typed work of literature ever done solely on an iPhone touch screen.

After a very quick four hours of trying to sleep in the humidity behind Mena's Pizza. My headphones did a good job at helping me nod off, but the daylight made it a bit challenging in a tent that doesn't block much light. Despite the threat of rain, I left the vestibule unzipped to try and capture every breeze of wind that blew by. The alarm woke me far too quickly, and I was disoriented by the ambient light still present, taking a minute to realize that it was the street lamp over the parking lot. As we began walking there was a strong wind and mist was being blown around the sky. The valley between the mountains was illuminated by what we'd come to discover was an overnight construction crew working on the railroad tracks. We got back on the trail and descended down stairs that were built into the granite rock of the hillside, eventually being dropped out onto the brick streets of historic Harper's Ferry. Truthfully, this looks like a gorgeous town. I wish photographs would have done the old buildings justice, but the weather and darkness didn't cooperate. Following the trail down by the Potomac River, we crossed a bridge alongside the railroad, fighting a fierce wind and rain mix that was coming off the riverbed below. Blinding construction lights made it challenging to see for a while, but eventually our irises adjusted to the darkness and we turned on our headlamps as we began hiking the 3 miles of trail that follow along the C&O Canal rail trail. The level terrain was a phenomenal way to warm up my leg muscles for what was to be a long day of walking. We were passed by no less than 4 separate trains as we walked that rail trail, full length rigs comprised of 50-70 cars audibly moving by in the night. The trail eventually split left, crossing over the same tracks we'd walked alongside, and then dipped into the woods where it began a 1,000' climb up into the mountains from the riverbed. As we got a few hundred feet up a thick fog became present, and navigating the trail became difficult. Akin to hi-beams in a snow storm, the LED headlamp lit up all the fog in front of me and made it hard to find blazes on the trees ahead. It wasn't until 3:20 AM that we came across the Ed Garvey shelter. Agreeing to stop quickly, eat, and sign the log book, we made a break off the trail. Switching my headlamp to its red LED so as to not wake hikers, I hoped the shelter was as empty as the past days had been. Despite my wishes and relatively good credit with cosmic karma, not only was the shelter full but there was also a very angry shephard / malamute type dog who began growling when I approached the picnic table to sign the log book. Its owner silenced it, and I quickly signed the book detailing my trek for the day, and writing an apology for rousing the dog. From there the hiking was simply dark, wet, forest traversing, and quick paced. I'm a faster hiker than Pneumo (who by the way was extremely interested in joining me for this gargantuan hike, and that's why he was insane enough to be awake at midnight to hike) but we stayed together while hiking through the night. At some point during the darkness, unbeknownst to us, we crossed from West Virginia into Maryland.

The plan we had talked about going into this day included stopping every two hours to eat. His parents had donned us with trail magic to prepare, including McDonald's double cheeseburgers (think calories and ease of consumption, hike and eat at the same time) and bagels pre-spread with peanut butter. Stopping at 4 AM, we ate and hiked on through the beginning dawn and into the daylight. The thick fog limited our view of any sunrise, but the light was welcome as walking by headlamp isn't the most ideal situation. Once the sun was up, Pneumo gave me the go-ahead on hiking at my faster rate. I really hesitated to separate, but in the end this was my journey and I was only going to accomplish it by going at my own pace. I hiked on into the daylight, coming across the first area of the Civil War Trails, crossing over battlefields and passing by historical society signs detailing battles that occurred in each area. It was rather chilling to pass through these fog covered fields and think about the lives that had been lost there. It was by Fox's Gap that I encountered some early morning trail magic, cold apples and crackers left for thru-hikers by a local day hiker. Continuing on, I passed by tents set by hikers still getting their good night's sleep. I crossed a main road and climbed up into the Washington Monument National Park, dedicated a century ago by locals to our first President. Walking up an easy pedestrian path, I came across posted signs with notable details of Washington's life, and at the summit was a stone tower built in his honor. There was, as expected, no view. I was able to make some early morning phone calls as I trekked on, checking in with my folks as each of them headed out into their work days. It's always good to talk with them, and each were near speechless to hear of my mileage plan for the day. The trail walked through a few residential backyards, crossing a large fenced in footbridge over Maryland's I-70 morning commute. How strange it is to stand over cars flying by below me, where my world moves so seemingly slow now. I came across the fourth shelter of my day, stopping to eat quickly before heading back out. This was the Pine Knob shelter, it was 9 AM and I was 23.5 miles into my day. I hit the trail quickly, spending only a few minutes there, climbing out of the low point up to Annapolis Rocks in the mountain above. What's typically a splendid view had no hope due to the fog, so I bypassed the 1/4 mile side trail. Carrying along at my consistent 3 miles an hour, I was slowed a little by the small rocks that became abundant across the trail. I picked another shelter north of there as a lunch point, knowing that it being 9 miles ahead would give me an approximate arrival time of noon.

It's quite interesting to be able to judge your arrival time (via walking) at a given location. True to form, after navigating a tricky section of rocks, then meandering across a lush green ridgeline for a few miles the trail dropped down, crossing a dirt road, and delivering me to the Ensign Cowell shelter at 11:55 AM. The 5th shelter I'd passed that day, and one that resided 31.9 miles from where I began hiking, I ate lunch here. At this point the rain was constant and I decided to change my socks for the first time. It was interesting to say to inquiring hikers that I'd already hiked 32 miles as most had only come 8 or 10 so far that day. I lingered at this shelter too long, spending almost 30 minutes. As my undertaking would occupy an unknown amount of total time, I was afraid to waste even a minute too long at any given place. I pressed on and climbed up into the next small mountain ridge, crossing through manicured farm fields, and back into the woods as the rain picked up even more. Despite owning a high-end Marmot rain jacket, I rarely wear it. I overheat too easily and often shed it shortly after putting it on, so it usually stays off and I just enjoy the free shower that rain provides. This is undoubtedly easier in the warmth of May than it was in the cold winter weather experienced in the Smoky Mountains. There were two climbs between the shelter at lunch and the next one I was aiming for. In this stretch of hiking I met a guy named Blink, also northbound, who I'd come across a few more times throughout the day. The second of the two climbs was a few hundred feet of rocky and steep terrain, reminding me that I was over 30 miles into my hike with the same distance to go before bed. For those wondering, it's a big mental hurdle to hike knowing that every ten miles is only 1/6 of your total day. At 1415hrs I arrived at the gorgeous, new, post and beam shelter called Raven Rock. I met a southbound section hiker and his puppy, ran into Blink again, signed the log book, and headed out back to the trail. At 1415hrs I was at my 6th shelter of the day, with 37 miles of hiking complete. The last two miles, and every mile further would continually be my 'longest day' on the trail. From Raven Rock the next big point on my very focused mind was PenMar park, the official entry point of Pennsylvania. A few tenths of a mile after that park I would exit Maryland and enter PA, simultaneously crossing the Mason-Dixon Line. Before that would happen, I'd make an extremely tricky and somewhat steep descent of rock fields soaked from the rain and covered in moss. Each step was a measured one, and I eventually breathed a sigh of relief as I stepped onto the flat dirt trail that entered into PenMar park. The place was deserted, likely due to the rain, but I admired the long-outdated Appalachian Trail sign as I filled my water bottle at a drinking fountain.

Hiking on it took only a minute or two, a railroad crossing, and a hundred feet in the woods before crossing the Mason-Dixon, simultaneously crossing Maryland off as the 6th completed state I've hiked on the Appalachian Trail. At this point it was 1600hrs, and I had hiked 41.2 miles. The trail dove down into a quick river gap before making a steep climb of 1,000' or so back up, only to summit a ridge and descend right back to the elevation it started at. Crossing a busy two lane road I scurried off into the woods hoping to get as many miles as possible in before dark. The trail got a little easier at this point with small ups, downs, and a few miles keeping me from the next shelter. At 1800hrs I arrived to a completely deserted Deer Lick shelter, my 7th of the day, with 46.2 miles complete. Signing the guest book and taking a minute to eat in the shelter, protected from the rain that was still falling, Blink arrived for a few minutes of conversation before we both moved on. In what would be a strange occurrence, the next section of 5 miles would be home to 3 separate shelters. I'm really not sure why this was done, as the number of hikers up this far is nowhere near enough to occupy such a large amount of sleeping room. Pressing on to fly through the miles and remaining daylight, I arrived at 1900hrs at Tumbling Run shelters, a pair of newer buildings, a pavilion, and leveled campsites sitting at the bottom of Chimney Rock Mountain. I sat here, signing my 9th shelter trail log of the day, needing words of encouragement from Blink. He was the only hiker I'd seen in 15 miles and I was at the point, after 18 hours of being awake and having hiked for 16 of those hours, that I needed encouragement. I was 49.7 miles in with 10.3 to go before attaining my goal. He repeatedly told me how amazing what I was doing was, and did his best to pump me up for the remaining hours of my hike. The mental roadblock for me at this point was the 1,100' climb over less than a mile that was ahead of me. Normally this wouldn't have been an issue, but I had already hiked fifty miles at that point and I wasn't sure how my legs would handle it. Surprisingly at this point I was in no pain, with the exception of my feet being sore. I said goodbye to Blink who again reminded me of how incredible my undertaking was, and I headed up the mountain. The steep climb flew by, and as the sun set somewhere behind thick clouds, I leveled off and followed the somewhat rocky trail across the ridge of Chimney Rock. Around 2045hrs I stopped and put my headlamp on. Despite the fact that the sky was still glowing with blue-hour (this is a photography term for the time around dusk when skyline photography is most ideal due to the gorgeous blue hues behind skyscrapers without the lens flare from direct sunlight) I still needed the extra light from my lamp due to the thick tree cover. The rain continued coming down, and I continued walking.

At 2100hrs I spoke with Pneumo on the phone. He at that point was nearly 10 miles behind me, an indication of the pace difference between us throughout the day. He wasn't sure about making the trek over Chimney Rock, and I encouraged him to stop at the last shelter with Blink. In the end he'd hike 50 miles in a day, an incredible accomplishment, but the 60 miles was my goal for my own personal reasons, and there was no need for him to risk his safety trying to hike even later into the night. I think that was all he needed to hear, as he quickly agreed to meet me in the morning wherever I ended up. I got off the phone and trekked on, fully reliant on my headlamp as the sky was now black. It was around 2130 that things got really interesting. The trail wasn't a relatively even dirt path winding through the forest. True to the rumors of Pennsylvania, I found myself face to face with multiple hundred-foot climbs up and over massive boulder fields. Some rocks were the size of basketballs, others the size of Chevy SUVs. Trying to navigate through/around/over them without twisting an ankle or breaking a trekking pole was a task in itself. My speed slowed drastically, and I worried about when I'd make it to my finish line for the day. Despite that concern I did my best to pace myself. It was around 2200hrs that things got difficult, heavy fog moved in as the temperature dropped a bit, and I was again faced with the problem of the headlamp poorly illuminating the area in front of me. Add in climbing over mossy and wet rocks while constantly searching for a 2" x 6" white blaze on any of a thousand trees within 'eyesight' and it was quite the challenging scenario. The hardest part of my day came shortly after the heavy fog, on a steep ascent of Suburban sized boulders. From a stationary position searching for a blaze to orient my forward direction, I noticed it was steeper and further to the right than I expected. I began changing my direction and as I stepped between boulders, the rain still coming down, my downhill trekking pole slipped on the rocks causing my ankle to twist, and in a mess of an event I fell. With the entire weight of my body and pack coming down harshly on the wet and hard rock, I somehow hit my head, smashing my LED headlamp apart and leaving me collapsed on a boulder in the pitch black, rained on, and alone. This was a moment to pause and reflect on my journey thus far into the Appalachian Trail. I didn't see stars, nor did I feel much pain. I'm not sure how hard the impact was to my head, but I've yet to figure out a scenario in which the headlamp would have broken in half without some kind of blunt impact. Regardless, I gathered myself and reached for my iPhone which thankfully with 9% battery life remaining, was able to provide a flashlight as I crawled, hands and knees, off the rock. It took only a minute to find the other half of my split headlamp, which I was able to reattach to the headband. I also found 2 of the 3 AAA batteries required to operate it, and managed to find a third in my backpack. Surprisingly, it worked, and I was back in business, hiking with new pains in my ankle and lower back, but hiking nonetheless. I took the trail even slower for the rest of the night, descending the mountain after a few more ups and downs. Crossing a few power line trails and eventually Pennsylvania's US30 highway, I found myself 60 miles from where I began. It was 2330hrs at that point, and I had spent 20 hours and 32 minutes walking. The 2.5 hour difference was made up by breaks at shelters throughout the day. I was physically exhausted, but managed to get my tent quickly set up before calling my mother at work to let her know I was alive, and falling fast asleep.

Hiking 60 miles in one day is an unbelievable accomplishment. I'm not gloating, I'm merely observing the mammoth undertaking. The path was not flat, not all dirt, and not subject to fair weather... neither is life. Life is about challenges, amazingly rewarding challenges that we'll forever look fondly back on. I challenged myself in honor of my grandparents truly incredible marriage. Pneumo met up with me around noon the next day, having hiked the rest of the mileage that morning. We ended up zeroing on the 30th, a reward for the length of the hike the day before, but that will be its own blog post later tonight.

Thank you all for your kind words and endless support with my venture out here. I'm proud of my accomplishment, and I hope some of you actually read this entire thing. I'm pretty sure it's just shy of a 3,500 word soliloquy, so I don't blame you if you just scrolled down to look at the photos.

Onward and upward, as I say. Can't make it to Maine unless I'm actually walking, so I'm off to get some miles in. Have a great weekend.

June 12th of this year will be the 60th wedding anniversary of my paternal grandparents. Sixtieth. These are two individuals who have been in each other's lives for most of their eighty years on earth, and who are unbelievably inspiring and supportive. They're also daily readers of this blog and frequently send along uplifting messages. For their anniversary there will be a family get-together in Rhode Island, but as I'll be hiking still, I won't make it. I spent a lot of walking time trying to come up with an idea for a gift I could give them to honor this amazing milestone in their life together. There's nothing tangible they need, no photos or kitchen supplies, no cameras or clothing. It's always a unique gift to help 'save the planet' in honor of someone, but OxFam didn't fit this scenario and I'm not sure how they feel about Polar Bears.

If you remember Casey Kasem and his hit weekly radio broadcast American Top 40then you might remember a segment of the show called "Long Distance Dedications". A listener would write in and dedicate a song to someone they miss, love, are thinking of, etc, and Casey would play the tune the next Sunday morning along with a brief story about the dedication. With that in mind, I decided to do a "Long Distance Dedication" of my own... Long distance in a different sense, in one day I'd hike one mile for every year of their marriage. A lofty goal, nearly double my longest day, I'd have my work cut out for me. . I know my 'gift' is a bit early of their June anniversary date, but the terrain from Virginia on was the most ideal to attempt this across. The 60 miles of hiking included trail in Virginia, all of the A.T. in both West Virginia and Maryland, and 19 miles into Pennsylvania. While this post isn't about the details of the hike, you'll be interested to know I completed all 60 miles in 20 hours and 32 minutes. For those interested, there will be another blog post of the normal nature that will talk about all the things I encountered yesterday, but this post here is about my grandparents.

Grammy & Grampy, on the 29th of May, 2014 in honor of your 60th wedding anniversary, I hiked 60 miles for you. My accomplishment absolutely pales in comparison to the unbelievably amazing, rare, and inspiring nature of your amazing relationship, but I hope you'll see it as something that I poured my heart and soul into for you. It won't sit on the mantle place or take up any room in the basement, but you can know that from out here in the woods where I've been living and tirelessly chipping away at a once-in-a-lifetime achievement, I've been thinking about you both frequently. You're an amazing couple, truly special individuals, and the greatest grandparents I could ever ask for. I love you both. Happy 60th anniversary.

It's safe to assume that I'm not pleased with the fact that the mileage listed above is 0.9 miles shy of the beautiful number 1,000. The truth is that as I neared the side trail for the Bear's Den hostel that I'm staying at, I very seriously debated hiking the 1.8 miles (round trip) down to the 1,000 mile mark and back to the hostel. It was about this time that the sky, which had been threatening severe weather all day, grumbled alive with some serious thunder, and raindrops began falling. Since I was relatively dry and would ultimately hike past the 1,000 mile mark tomorrow, I decided against my extra journey. So there... starting at the end, let's revisit the beginning.

I slept using my sleeping bag as a blanket, hoping to fight off the humidity that moved in overnight. After packing up around 6:30, I ate breakfast and talked with Jug and Huckabee about their hike and their interest in a thru-hike. They headed south as I turned north, and began an adventure forward on my own as Pneumo had left fifteen minutes or so before me. He was meeting his mom at a road crossing 7 miles from the shelter we stayed at, and was trying to make it there rather quickly. I kept a good pace throughout the day, at almost 3 miles an hour the entire time. Since Pneumo was with his parents, I was hiking alone all day. About 8 miles into the hike I came across a gorgeous mountaintop field, with clear skies and the sun shining down, I actually paused to close my eyes and feel the cold breeze blow across the pasture. It felt rather amazing, for whatever reason. The simplicity of these moments are ones I'll remember fondly.

After coming down off the mountaintop the Appalachian Trail crossed over a 4 lane highway before disappearing back into the woods. I had turned my iPod on and was listening to the radio as I went along, which probably attributed to my hiking speed. With classic rock in my ear, I passed by a few thru-hikers in quick succession. At noon I had hiked 13 miles and was sitting at the side trail to the Rod Hollow shelter. It's funny to think that I've hiked 999.1 miles and will not hike 0.2 miles on a side trail to a shelter if I can avoid it. I instead sat on a rock on the Appalachian Trail and ate a Pop Tart, allowing myself a full half hour break for lunch. Hikers English Girl and Dirty Harry arrived as I was packing up, and stayed for lunch... neither walked down the side trail. About a half mile after Rod Hollow was a sign posted welcoming hikers to The Roller Coaster. A somewhat famous section of the Appalachian Trail, Roller Coaster encompasses 13.5 miles of extremely strenuous climbs and descents, 4-600' a piece, happening in immediate succession. The rest of my day would be comprised of these small mountains. With the temperature at 88 degrees and humidity well above 70%, this tough section of trail became horrid for hiking. My bandana, kept handy for sweat, was dripping on its own by the time I hit my third hill in the Coaster. I crossed by a few hikers headed southbound before coming across a man walking alone northbound. I can honestly say this was the first time on the Trail that I've been nervous of my surroundings. Approaching from behind and giving myself a wide berth to study the individual, I saw he was in long pants, a white t-shirt, and was barefoot. After hearing gunfire from hunters all day, I was somewhat on edge of what I was coming across... the barefoot thing really caught me off guard. I announced my presence behind him and inquired about the lack of footwear, to which he replied it strengthened his feet on the rocks by not wearing shoes. Needless to say when I walked past him I hightailed it out of sign down the trail. I had a weird feeling I was going to be shot from behind and die by an act of the Shoeless Hiker. That being said, I'm sure he was harmless. I got off the Appalachian Trail at mile 999.1 just after 1700hrs, hiking two tenths of a mile to the Bears Den hostel. A large stone building, almost castle-like in its appearance, it is owned by the Appalachian Trail Conservancy and managed by the Potomac Appalachian Mountain Club. For $30 a night hikers are offered the famed 'hiker special' which includes a bunk, shower, laundry, personal 16" pizza, pint of Ben & Jerry's, and a pancake breakfast. There's also a large group area with a TV/movie library, and a computer with free Internet access. I was happy to stay here, especially as the heavens opened and torrential rain fell from the sky. I was dry, warm, and not in my tent... a win as far as I'm concerned. Pneumo arrived soaking wet at 2045hrs safely after a long day. I'm headed to bed after watching Spaceballs and A Knight's Tale with Cool Luke, Stumbles, and English Girl. I'll be waking up early to cross the 1,000 mile mark and make it into the famed trail town of Harper's Ferry. ​

Lots of excitement with that piece of information, but we'll go over that tomorrow. Also, for whatever it's worth, I've been wondering if there are any questions you might want me to answer about the trail, hiking, or anything else. Blog viewership has dropped off by 1,500 or so visits a week, so I wasn't sure if you're all bored of my writing or if there was a format change that would keep it from becoming repetitious. Anyway! Input is always welcome. For now though I'm headed to bed.

Edit: As of 7:30 AM on Wednesday I have crossed the 1,000 mile mark of the Appalachian Trail. Go team.

I was woken up rather early by a rowdy group of young college guys yelling back and forth across the campsite as they got ready for their day at 5:30 AM. I put my ear plugs in and went back to sleep. Knowing that Pneumo and I were only hiking 24 miles today, and having arrived late after a 34 mile day yesterday, we decided to sleep in a bit. It was so incredibly nice to get out of my tent at 7:45 and hang around the shelter until almost 9 before hiking. We ate breakfast with two retirement-aged guys from Kentucky who have been section hiking together for a few years. It was great conversation, and we learned that they'll be hiking from Harper's Ferry to the Blue Ridge area over two weeks. Pneumo and I hit the trail after some encouraging parting words, and began our day.

Crossing Skyline Drive we began the climb up to the two peaks of South and North Marshall Mountain. No more than 20 minutes into our hike we ran across 6 different black bears. I'm thoroughly convinced that the Shenandoahs saved all my bear sightings for the very end, alike a fireworks show saving the best explosions for the last minutes. A lone male bear, a mother bear with her infant cub on her back (poorly pictured below), and a mom with two larger cubs, all separated by a mile or so. What an amazing experience and sight. As we came across the mother and baby cub we looked to make sure there weren't others around (don't want to get stuck between a mother and her cub) before I started taking photos. After 30 seconds or so she bolted away and the cub fell off her back, landing in the soft ferns below. He quickly climbed up a tree as the mother bear looked back, at which point we hurriedly hiked away so as to not appear as a threat to the mom. The trail descended from the Marshall peaks and dipped down before climbing up to the summit of Compton Peak and again descending to Skyline Drive. It was at the Compton Gap parking lot that we crossed over Skyline Drive for the final time during this Appalachian Trail thru-hike, at Skyline mile 10.4. It's amazing to think that in just 3 and a half days we hiked through the Shendandoahs. Entering back into the woods and following along the A.T. as it shared its path with the Compton Gap trail, we passed by the last day hikers we'll see for a while. We also met a group of a half dozen guys who were on their 30th thru-hike reunion. After completing the hike together in 1984, they come out every few years and section hike an area. It was great to meet them and talk about how things have changed. One guys remembered hiking in corduroy pants, and another remembered calling home every two weeks at a payphone to let his family know he was alive. Things certainly have changed. Splitting left the Appalachian Trail was on its own again, and the trail was decorated with sign posts marking the end of the Shenandoah National Park property. It became immediately evident that we had left a maintained area, as the trail quickly became rocky and uneven, unlike everything within the 100 miles of Shenandoah.

About a mile down the trail after exiting the park, Floyd Shelter was located just off the trail. Due to our late start, we got there around 1330hrs, and aimed for a quick lunch. Despite all good intentions, I left before Pneumo nearly two hours later after taking a nap on the picnic table. With 13.6 miles to go at this point including two rather decent climbs, I was frustrated with my delay and hiked quickly. A few miles down the trail I came across a large field with tall grass, surrounded by a vine-covered barbed wire fence that was nearly 10' tall. A residential home next to the trail and field offered trail magic of camping, relaxing on the porch, and cold water, of which I took them up on the latter. After filling my water bottle I knocked on the door and met Mark, the father of a girl who thru-hiked in 2012. I thanked him for the water and inquired about the fields, which he informed me are government property where "the government plays with nearly extinct animals". If you're imagining something along the lines of Jurassic Park, you're not alone. Mark told me I might even see zebras, and to keep my eyes open. I thanked him again for the water and hiked on. Pneumo caught up to me am hour or so later and we carried a good pace forward, stopping for a quick bite to eat at the exceptionally upscale Denton shelter. With room for 8 hikers, a front porch with deck chairs, a cooking pavilion, and a solar shower, it would have been the perfect place to stay. Unfortunately we had to press on another 6 miles due to Pneumo meeting his mom tomorrow morning. We hiked on, and arrived at our intended shelter just after 2100hrs, only needing our headlamps for the last half hour or so. The shelter was only occupied by two hikers, Jugs and Huckabee, recent University of Marylamd grads who are on a two week backpacking trip southbound from the Mason Dixon line to The Priest mountain. We conversed as Pneumo and I cooked dinner, then I set my tent up off to the side. It's humid and clear, so I left my rain fly off the tent for the night.

With a sky full of stars and the blinking wing lights of commercial planes flying over, I'll sleep well. Tomorrow will be a 24 mile hike to the 1,000 mile mark, and we'll be spending the night in a hostel operated by the Appalachian Trail Conservancy. I hope you all enjoyed your long weekend!

Ladies and gentlemen, it is with great pleasure that I inform you of the fact that bears live in the woods. After walking over 900 miles through a half dozen National Forests, designated 'Wildernesses', night hikes through the Smokies, Blue Ridges, and Shenandoahs, and listening to hundreds of stories of other hikers seeing these creatures, I'd all but given up hope on their existence being real. Alas, as I hiked alone last evening, the sun a mere 15 minutes from its descent behind the horizon, I heard a rustling in the bushes to my right. As I turned (and squinted.. need me some damn glasses) I saw a big fuzzy black butt hurry off deeper into the woods. Looking closer I noticed a second bear attempting to hide behind a tree, staring out at me on the trail. With 50 or so feet between us and a lot of vegetation no clear photo was to be taken, but I got a blurry photo on my dSLR to at least confirm my dreams had come true. Bears exist in the woods, I can now die happy.

Pneumo and I both started waking up around 5:30 AM this morning, knowing we had a long day ahead. The forest floor where we had set camp was unbelievably comfortable, but damp. My rain fly for the tent was dripping water, so I'll have to find time to lay it out to dry. We packed up shop and hit the trail at just after 6:30, an hour or so earlier than usual. Passing by a cemetery (didn't know national parks had cemeteries..) we climbed up into a ridge line that we'd spend most of the day traversing. We climbed up and hiked along past the park's Big Meadows Campground and watched dozens of gargantuan tents come alive with families and young kids excited for breakfast. Sadly, nobody invited us to join them. We stopped shortly for a water break and Pneumo noticed a deer tick on his lower abdomen. This is more problematic than the wood ticks I've been finding and puts us on high alert as they're much smaller, harder to find, and can carry Lyme. Removing it, he borrowed a sharpie to mark where it had been just in case the area starts showing signs of infection. We stopped at Rock Springs Hut around 8:30 with 5 miles already under our feet for the day. We had decided to limit out stops in order to save time throughout the day, and only remained there for 20 minutes or so while snacking and watching busy weekend hikers clumsily pack up their stuff. Heading back out, we climbed continuously up to Stony Man mountain, ultimately the highest point on the Appalachian Trail in the Shenandoahs at an elevation of 3,837'. This section of the trail was flooded with holiday weekend hikers, from small children to those needing assistance of walkers. I do often wonder how we look to them. We passed by the summit and continued a mile or so down to a rocky cliff overlooking Stony Man. While hiking down this section of trail a man walking with his wife called out (referring to my Red Sox hat) "It's a shame you're not a Yankees fan!" to which, without missing a beat, I replied "It's a shame you are!" - his wife apparently thought this was the funniest reply she'd ever heard and I was complimented on my rhetoric. At this point it was 11:30 so we stopped and enjoyed a lunch in the sun on the rocks, watching vacationers come and go, taking group photos and the like. One dad was exceptionally overbearing towards his teenage kids who were 'wandering too close to the edge'. He freaked out at one point and walked over with a pointed finger extended at the end of a straight arm, and the kid sat down like a puppy who knew he'd been caught peeing on the rug. Some people really are strange.

Hiking back into the woods and away from the families was nice, but no matter where we turned there were always more tourists. By the end of our day we would end up passing by two thru-hikers and well over 100 weekenders on the trail. 34 miles of trail and 2 thru-hikers... It's amazing. Anyway, we climbed and descended ridges, bypassing overlooks due to it being the same scene of the same valley every time. On the way down the trail from a mountain called Mary's Rock we had a great conversation with a couple from the Boston area about the hike. The woman had asked if they were 'almost there' and I asked her to specify where 'there' was, which sparked them asking where we had come from. All in all today I met 10 people from the Boston area: Lynn, Swampscott, Gloucester, Cambridge... and a guy from Connecticut who wanted his allegiance to Red Sox Nation to be known.

The afternoon included another 18 miles of hiking for us, and a Wayside gift shop at which to grab snacks and short-order grill food. Pneumo and I set our sights on the Wayside and hauled ass over 3 separate mountains to accomplish the mileage before they closed at 1900hrs. Despite having walked 29 miles already and desperately wanting some fried chicken, the kitchen had inevitably closed 15 minutes prior to our arrival. In a depressed state I bought some snacks, and an absolutely welcomed Samuel Adams Boston Lager. Hanging out for an hour, airing my feet out and noting some discoloration likely due to a pair of socks that need to be replaced, I realized I still had 5.7 miles to hike. I left Pneumo as he was cooking dinner, and headed out onto the trail around 1930hrs. It was in this first mile stretch that I ran across the bears. Having seen them, checking that off my Appalachian Trail list of things to do, I shifted gears and hiked a quick 3 mph into the night. Watching a sorbet sunset from atop a rock at Rattlesnake Point, I descended deep into the woods for the remainder of my hike. Had you told me when I was a little kid that I'd be hiking alone in a pitch black national forest late into the night, I'd tell you that you were crazy. As I hiked along, my only source of light from my LED, I pondered what I'd do if the batteries ran out. Silly thoughts like that kept me occupied until 2145 when I came upon the entrance to the shelter. It was at this time that I nearly had a heart attack as the silence was broken by a deer who hopped out of the woods and jumped across the trail. Whew! Heart rate doubled.

The shelter was fast asleep, with the glow of an unattended fire (this bothered me) glowing in the foreground. It was tough in the dark to find somewhere to tent, so I pitched my MSR tent on a sloped section next to the shelter itself. Falling asleep quickly I was woken by Pneumo an hour later when he arrived from the Wayside. For some reason I was up a few times between arrival and midnight due to the feeling I was going to throw up. Luckily nothing ended up coming of that, and I'll hopefully sleep soundly for the rest of the night.

Tomorrow's an easier day, only 24 or so miles. Hope everyone has an enjoyable Memorial Day. I sure so wish I was home with the Jeep, roof down, American flag blowing back off the CB antenna, and country music playing loudly. I'll just wait for Labor Day, I suppose.

The kid throwing up all night was alive this morning, and per conversation with his friend they were going to try to hitchhike into the nearest town. Pneumo and I ate a quick breakfast while speaking with a section-hiking southbounder, and were on the trail just after 7 AM. While most days don't have set timing, today we were each meeting people around noon about 12 miles north of where we camped. There were to be three separate mountain peaks to climb between here and there. While none of the peaks were over 3,600 feet, each was a long climb that certainly gave us a good workout. It was during the descent of the second to last mountain that we crossed the uncelebrated 900th mile of the Trail, my clumsiness kicked in. As I was walking along, head down watching the trail in front of me, I walked clear into a fallen tree that was leaning over the trail. With my head smacking the 8" thick tree trunk, I stumbled backwards and took a minute to start seeing things clearly... How embarrassing! We hiked consistently at 2.5-3 mph all morning, arriving at the place where Pneumo was planning to meet his dad at about 11:30. As we exited the woods and walked across Skyline Drive, two women sitting around camping chairs and a blanket spread at a parking area started hollering and cheering, exclaiming that they had been 'waiting for us all day' to which I jokingly replied that we 'got there as fast as we could'.

After introducing themselves as Goat Mama and Just Sue, two local women dabbling in trail magic, Pneumo and I were each handed cold PBR beers, donuts, and an assortment of snacks laid out on the blanket. I was meeting a friend at the next road crossing so I didn't stay too long, but after some brief conversation I learned that Goat Mama's daughter (trail name: Goat) is hiking the Pacific Crest Trail this summer, and after hearing about the trail magic she was encountering, Goat Mama and her friend Just Sue wanted to give back to Appalachian Trail hikers. They were eager to hear about our adventures, and as we spoke to them Pneumo's dad arrived in the parking area after driving in from their home in Virginia. He had brought some new gear for Pneumo including new shoes and a new backpack, as well as Gatorades and a cheeseburger for each of us. Looking at the time, I thanked the ladies for their generosity and hiked on the 1 mile to the trail crossing at Route 33 where I was planning to meet my new friend Andy.

A member of an online forum that I participate in called GarageJournal, Andy reads the blog and comments regularly. He reached out to me offering help in any way he could, so I called the other day to arrange a rendezvous as I was very interested in meeting. On the phone he said 'I know you like cheeseburgers' and made true on his word to bring me some, along with some bagels. (I was unable to find bagels in Waynesboro). As I popped out of the woods and crossed the 4 wide lanes of Skyline Drive, I was greeted with waving arms across the bridge from not only Andy, but his two kids as well. It was really exciting to meet someone who reads the blog, an otherwise stranger who actually knows many details of my recent life. While talking with his kids, 7th and 4th graders, he offered me an array of treats. Not only had Andy picked me up bagels, but also locally popular marinated barbecue chicken breasts, still hot, a half dozen bottles of cold blue Gatorade, a favorite of mine, and four cheeseburgers from Dairy Queen. I'm pretty sure I'd died and gone to heaven. As it was Saturday Andy and the kids had time to sit and talk, so we sat on the other side of a stone wall along Skyline and chatted for an hour about the trail, the kids schooling, summer plans, and of course Andy's garage. Half an hour or so after arriving, Pneumo and his dad hiked down and joined us. When it was time for Andy and the kids to take off, I thanked him profusely for the kindness he extended my way. What a great family, and I'm really glad to have had the opportunity to meet them. Again Andy, your generosity and encouragement will not be forgotten.

After about an hour and a half of hanging out, it was time to get hiking again. It was pretty neat that Pneumo's dad Brian was able to take some time to visit, and he actually was even able to hike with us for a while. I walked along with them for a few minutes before moving ahead so they had time to hang out together without my presence. He hiked 4 miles along with us before turning back for his car. It's funny how quickly I forget that most people have to hike 'round trip' and aren't just moving forwards towards an abstract destination 1,270 miles away. It's pretty cool that his dad made it out here, and it made me eager for when my dad can join me on the trail as well. We hiked on, at that point it was 1500hrs or so, and we had 12 miles left in our day. The afternoon pace of hiking slowed us in the heat, and we shared the trail with many weekenders and Memorial Day vacationers who all seemed to ask us for directions. It's tough to explain to someone that you actually only follow white blazes on trees day in and day out... I think they assume that because we look and smell homeless with packs on our backs, we're well acquainted with the layouts of all things National Parks.

At about 1700hrs we passed by a side trail for the Lewis Mountain Campground, and against his wishes Pneumo and I stopped in. Hiking by dozens of campers, pop-up trailers, gigantic McMansion REI tents for families of 10, and thousands of lawn chairs, we arrived at the campground store. Despite the food already consumed today, I got some ice cream, cookies, apple pie, and a breakfast sandwich to eat while sitting on the front steps and talking with two of the hikers from last night's shelter. We hung out for an hour (much longer than intended) before heading back out to hike the last 8 miles of our day. We had one more mountain climb, Hazletop- the second highest peak in the park at 3,800', and then a long descent down into the valley below. As the sun was setting and the forest cooled, we quietly walked by a dozen separate deer grazing in the trees, rabbits, and a million birds and owls singing their tunes. It was quite beautiful.

We picked a soft area of trail to camp at, making a campsite of our own as you often have to do here between shelters. Arriving at 2030hrs, we set up and got into our tents by 2100, both tired after a good day of hiking. Tomorrow we'll walk a bit further, aiming for an early start to get the miles in without any night hiking.

Today is my fiftieth day on the Appalachian Trail. In that time I've hiked in five of the fourteen states the trail traverses through, trekked over countless mountain tops, and met immeasurable numbers of amazing, unique, and sometimes abrasive individuals from all corners of the world. It's been pretty neat so far, and although I'm not half way or anything of that sort, I thought that day 50 deserved some kind of introduction.

Despite being camped on the side of a road, I slept well. It was exceptionally windy but my poorly placed tent stakes (tough to drive into the ground due to the gravel below me) held in place. Pneumo and I both woke up just before 6 and as I finished up yesterday's blog, he audibly complained about the chill of the wind as he packed up his sleeping bag. If you've ever experienced not wanting to get out of bed during the winter due to it being cold, imagine the same sensation amplified tenfold due to 40 degree ambient temperatures, wind, and no hot shower waiting to take the chill off the morning. It can be quite tough waking up. Regardless, we were packed up and on the trail by 7:20 this morning. Gentle traverses with a small climb brought us the 2 miles we would have had to hike last night to make it to our original destination, the Calf Mountain Shelter. Upon arriving at the sign, which oddly enough was wrapped in barbed wire, we decided not to make the 1/3 of a mile trip each way to visit the shelter itself. Pushing on, we continued to hike along the Shenandoah's unique terrain. While Virginia so far has included ridge walking and some exceptionally steep climbs and descents, this National Park has terrain that's a lot more manageable. I'm not by any means saying it's easy, however there are lots of areas where it's level or only slightly pitched, followed by climbs and descents that are kind on the knees. It's exceptionally pleasant hiking.

We stopped in a parking lot about 8 miles into our day and talked with a local Appalachian Trail Club volunteer and his wife who works for the park. They were out to do some trail maintenence by cutting down trees that had fallen in recent weather storms. We were warned that the park would be very full this weekend, and when I inquired why she informed me that it was Memorial Day weekend. I suppose it shows how disconnected I am that I thought Memorial Day was next weekend. Regardless, she wasn't wrong. This place is packed, and I thoroughly believe I haven't seen this many people on the trail since down by Springer Mountain 49 days ago. Pneumo and I hiked on, with our sights set on the Blackrock Hut. For clarification, 'huts' in the Shenandoahs are the same as 'shelters' everywhere else. We arrived at the shelter around 1300hrs and after meeting a third trail volunteer, we ate lunch. Reading through the shelter log I learned about the Loft Mountain Wayside, a short order restaurant in a park gift shop that's famous on the trail for burgers and milkshakes. It was 10 miles from the Blackrock site and closed at 1730hrs so we cut lunch short and hurried off to make it there before the wayside closed.

The afternoon hiking closely resembled the morning, climbs of 500' drawn out over good distances with switchbacks, and many meandering level areas that simply wandered through the lush green forest. Every mile or so the trail crosses over Shenandoah's famous Skyline Drive road before ducking back into the woods. We passed dozens of day and weekend hikers, including one mother and her two very young children who asked me where they should go to see a bear. I couldn't help but think how... safe... that scenario sounded. Regardless, Pneumo and I hiked on hurrying for the 1/3 mile side trail to the Wayside. We got to the Frazier Discovery Trail at 1650hrs and eagerly rushed down it, knowing that greasy food and made to order milkshakes waited for us at the bottom. It was a steep trail that to me seemed alotlonger than 1/3 mile, causing me to doubt that we'd found the right trail, eventually dumping us out by a visitor center on Skyline Drive. Heading for the restaurant we learned the famed milkshake machine was broken (and had not been working all season) but that didn't stop me from ordering food. I ate a cheeseburger, large order of chicken tenders, a grilled cheese, and two scoops of black raspberry ice cream. We were there for about an hour, and I felt like there was a boat anchor in my stomach as I very slowly re-climbed the Frazier trail back to the A.T. at a mile an hour.

The remaining five miles to the Pinehurst shelter where I planned to spend the night went by quickly, and I arrived just before 2015hrs. Despite lots of bear scat on the trail and many many reports of sightings amongst hikers, I saw none in that hour before dusk. The shelter has a large group of short term hikers tonight. They're eagerly talking about how long and stressful their scattered 20 mile days are, which caused Pneumo and myself to chuckle to ourselves. I don't ever push the mileage I do on people, only answering questions about it if I'm asked. Regardless, I listened to their plans, pulled a half dozen ticks off my legs from the last bit of hiking, and reviewed the Guide with Pneumo about our plans for tomorrow, then got into bed around 2100hrs.

I've been woken up many times throughout the night by a kid who I assume has Noro, constantly vomiting into the brush nearby to my tent. It's been obnoxious, and although I understand being sick I think I'd try and move away from the sleeping groups of people if I was going to audibly gag and throw up. Despite my frustration, I sympathetically asked if he was ok and if there was anything I could do to help before I put my ear plugs in and put some music on to drown him out. We'll see how he is (from a distance) tomorrow. With plans to do another 27 miles or so the weather should be beautiful, and the trail packed with weekenders and holiday hikers. It's different, but certainly entertaining. Hiking a trail that I've had to myself for days, through remote wildernesses and mountains, to then hike along and see campers and RVs and massive pop-up tents litter the side of the trail.

I slept like a baby last night. The temperature was comfortably chilly, with occasional strong winds blowing over the crest of Humpback Mountain where we were camped. With most of the hikers headed for town, everyone was up early. Packing up while eating breakfast, Pneumo and I were on the trail at just before 7. The terrain for the morning was relatively easy, a few small climbs, a descent to a shelter, then a final climb up to the road level of the Blue Ridge Parkway where we would surface and hitchhike into Waynesboro.

Flying through the miles at a good pace, we arrived at Rockfish Gap (where Waynesboro is accessible from) at 10:45. It's a rather cool section of road around this gap, centered around a bridge, with the southern side of the bridge marking the beginning of the Blue Ridge Parkway and the northern side marking the beginning of Shenandoah National Park. This is such a popular area for thru-hikers to hitch from, there's actually a list of local trail angels posted on a fence post giving phone numbers of people to call if you need a ride. Surprisingly, the list takes an entire printed page and includes two or three dozen individuals who are available to help. Pneumo found a cooler of trail magic and after enjoying a cold Coke and an orange, I got us a ride into town. The gentlemen who picked us up was a home inspector on his way to town, and hesitated at first before coming to a stop down the road a ways and waiting for us to walk over. Luckily the road was a slow one and there was no interference with traffic. The four mile drive into town took all of 8 or 10 minutes, during which I sat in the passenger spoke with the guy while Pneumo sat haphazardly in the back with a ladder and the gentleman's work tools. He and I talked about his travels through Europe, the housing market in Virginia, and how well his 'busy season' coincides with his wife's vacation times as a teacher. Following the recognizable first-world voice of Siri via his iPhone, he used those directions to drop us off at the YMCA where we had learned free showers were offered to thru-hikers. We parted ways, thanking him multiple times, and ventured inside to see what we could do about cleaning up a bit.

Asking for just a photo ID in exchange for a fluffy towel, bar of soap, and bottle of shampoo, the YMCA desk attendant pointed us towards their locker room and showers. I can honestly say I haven't showered in a prison-style bathroom arrangement like this since I took swimming lessons in elementary school at our local Y. Despite the nostalgic feeling, the water was free and hot, and I used the entire bar of soap scrubbing 200+ miles of dirt and grime from my skin. I must have shampooed my hair four or five times, and then just stood there under the hot water. It felt wonderful. Drying off and ready to change into my town clothes, a separate pair of NB shorts, shirt, and light socks, I took a moment to step onto their sliding-weight doctors office style scale. Initially in disbelief, I double checked that it was calibrated correctly, which it was. I'm down 20 lbs since leaving Boston 7 weeks ago. This isn't horrible, however, as I'm at a weight I was at through high school and most of college... I'm not going to shrivel up and die. Returning my towel and getting my ID back, we headed out to the slow streets of this small southern town to try and get a ride across town. After a few minutes with no luck on the road, I asked a woman leaving the Y parking lot in her seafoam green Prius about a ride. She smiled, saying she'd need to make room, then hopped out to rearrange things in order to accommodate us. Barbara, as she introduced herself, lives in town and has the job of spaying and neutering stray cats to try and combat overpopulation. A chemist by trade with many years of travel and teaching under her belt, she returned to Waynesboro where she now lives. Instead of just rushing us to where we needed to be, she took us on a wonderful tour through the small town neighborhoods, even bringing us to a Clemmer Gardens, a garden that's privately owned by a local family & available for anyone to walk through. There were dozens of manicured flower beds, bridges across a stream, and large stone fireplaces accentuating the luscious back yard of the exceptionally upscale stone home that the owners live in. Barbara then took us over to the Dollar General where we intended to resupply. Before leaving, she gave me her cell number and insisted I call when we were ready to get back to the trail.

The first order of business was to get food. $8 at Little Caesar's pizza netted me a large pepperoni and a side of breadsticks, which I happily carried next door to the laundromat to consume while doing laundry. The biggest concern for me today was to charge my electronics, as my big backup battery was nearly dead. Eventually finding an outlet behind some vending machines in the laundromat, we got laundry going and ate our food, complimented by a handful of $1 Gatorade from the Dollar General next door. It couldn't have been more perfect- all three stores were immediately next to each other. We hung out in the small shopping center until 1800hrs, resupplying, planning our next few days, and hanging out. I was also able to call Outdoor Research, a hiking gear company, about a pair of gaiters that broke on the trail. Comprised of waterproof fabric, gaiters wrap around my shoe and over my ankle to prevent sticks and rocks from getting into my feet. The strap that wraps under the shoe had broken after 600 or so miles of hiking, and I've not been able to use them. Mark at OR was quick to apologize and insisted on sending me what he thought was the best pair for my application. Exceptionally kind and helpful, they're mailing them 2-day Air to Harper's Ferry at no cost, asking only that I destroy the originals. I couldn't have asked for better customer service. Thank you again, Mark.

Barbara picked us up and brought us back to the trailhead, first taking us by a stone mansion that was built over 100 years ago atop a mountain overlooking town. The Swannanoa Palace is built from Italian marble and has basically sat in decay since the death of its owners. With sprawling upper gardens, originally decorated with thousands of statues, it's now an eerie but gorgeous reminder of a more upscale time in history and design. We walked through the property marveling at the design, taking some photos, and meeting neighbors before heading for the trail. Barbara was quite knowledgable about the property. Parting ways and thanking her endlessly for her assistance, Pneumo and I began hiking again at 1900hrs. The goal was 8 more miles up to a shelter in the Shenandoah's, but we wouldn't end up making it.

An hour and a half into our hike the sun set and shadows shifted I caught my foot in a really weird way on a rock, and hurt my knee and shin again. With it being tough to walk on, we pressed on at a slower rate, lead lamps on full power illuminating the trail. Passing the radio towers at the summit of Bear Den mountain, we were forced through acres of fields of tall grass. Once out at a road crossing I removed 8 ticks from my legs. It frustrates me that the "largest volunteer land maintenence project in the world" as the Appalachian Trail Conservancy prides themselves on, can't take a weed whacker and trim around the trail, especially with the huge threat of Lyme Disease. Regardless, I wasn't comfortable walking and decided I wouldn't try to make the 2 more miles to the shelter we were aiming for. We pitched our tents just off the roadbed and are calling it a night. The gravel ground made it hard to pitch the tent stakes, and so to combat the wind atop the ridge here I'm using the weight of my food bag to hold my vestibule out in position.

Tomorrow we'll do some decent mileage, in addition to the 2 missed miles to the shelter from today. All in all 18 miles with 6 hours of hiking and 7 hours in a town I think are still good numbers. I've also got more food now, and that makes me a happy guy. I'm excited to see over the next few days how the Shenandoah's are as a national park and area to hike. Hopefully I can stop this silly night hiking and keep my legs better.

The summit of The Priest mountain was the last time the Appalachian Trail will be at an elevation of over 4,000 feet until Vermont. As a hiker of said trail, this is exhilarating news. Let's be honest though, you don't think the trail would let me off that easily, do you?

I slept horribly last night. Around 12:30 Fletch woke up, stumbled out of the shelter, and began vomiting incessantly for a good minute or two. The combination of this and the bright glow of his LED headlamp made it hard to stay asleep, and as a result I was awake until almost 3. This made it exceptionally hard for me to warrant getting out of bed when Pneumo checked to make sure I was alive at 6 AM. I was undoubtedly reluctant to wake up, let alone get out of my warm sleeping bag, let alone put on my shoes and hike the long day we'd planned to do. Alas, my job out here is in fact to walk a distance every day so I woke, rose, and donned my shoes. In packing up I frantically searched for my Sawyer Squeeze water filter, which I ultimately discovered had been accidentally kidnapped by a hiker named Valkarie as she packed up her cookware the night before. Tragedy averted. Fletch set up his tent in the middle of the night and was asleep when I left the shelter. I assume he has Norovirus or a 24-hour bug that many hikers have gotten. I'm grateful that he didn't stay the rest of the night next to me in the shelter, but I feel bad for him. There's probably not much worse than being disgustingly sick in the middle of the woods all while being pretty much entirely alone. I wish him well.

Pneumo and I hit the trail around 7:30, with a smooth hike for the first few miles. Meandering up and down for a while we made an ascent of a few hundred feet before dropping into Cash Hollow gap where we ran into 5 hikers being dropped off for a 'slack pack'. In thru-hiker lingo, slack packing is when a hiker's bag is transported by car between two sections of trail for them, allowing them to hike the A.T. without the weight of their bag slowing them down. While some view it as cheatin, I totally see where the appeal comes from, especially with the terrain we faced today. Climbing out of Cash Hollow, the trail ascended a thousand feet to Priest Shelter before beginning a very long, very steep descent. Priest Shelter is a bit of a landmark, as the shelter log is more comical than any other on the trail. Instead of normal journal entries, hikers 'confess' to sins of the trail. Some such confessions include not digging a full 6" deep when digging a cathole for using the bathroom, while others confess to only having hung a handful of bear bags (to keep food from being stolen by bears) while camping. Some are too, shall we say, colorful... to post for such a wide Internet audience. Anyways, we stopped to snack at the shelter and read the log before beginning the 4 mile descent of over 3,000 feet down into the valley below. It was around this point that we crossed from the Jefferson National Forest, which we'd been in since the Greyson Highlands at mile 490, and entered into the George Washington National Forest. As I mentioned before, the summit of The Priest would be the last mountain over 4k feet until Vermont. Per usual with the Appalachian Trail, there was still some fun in store.

The descent off Priest was exceptionally steep, comprised of many rocks that required some careful attention with every step. After a mile or so of this it eventually became the expected switchbacks, although steeper than normal. Due to the lack of sleep the night before, I stopped at one point just to close my eyes for a few minutes. Upon reaching the bottom of the mountain the trail crossed a suspension bridge and began an 6.3 mile climb that would net nearly 3,500 feet in elevation gain, with the final peak of Three Ridges mountain measuring in at 3,970 feet... See what I meant about the 'fun in store'? No more mountains over 4,000 feet, but immediately after that stat we'll have you climb a 3,970 footer. Just great! Pneumo and I had reached the top of Three Ridges mountain in 2 1/2 hours total, not bad for 6.3 miles of straight climbing. Exhausted, we sat at the summit with hikers named Cornwall (from England) and Cowboy (from Texas). Having never met them before, I made conversation with Cowboy and learned that after the hike he's using his GI bill to move to Key West, buy a boat, and become a dive instructor. His plan is to live at a slip in the harbor on his boat and take tourists out. Looks like I'll now have a friend in Key West. I congratulated him on following through with his biggest dreams, as I think that's a rare thing in this world. I also added in that his story reminded me of a Kenny Chesney song, to which he laughed. While we were up at the summit we were treated with yet another military jet fly-by. Thank you to Andy for the explanation of yesterday's mountainous 'buzz the tower' as Maverick from the film Top Gun would say.

Coming down almost 1,000 feet from Three Ridges, Pneumo and I stopped at Maupin Field shelter for some snacks before carrying on the 11 miles left in our day. The campsite we had discussed the day before was at mile 845.5, meaning a long day when the elevation changes were factored in. We pressed on, and the trail was fair for the most part. A rocky section led me to a few minor trips, and my right shin starting showing discomfort. We slowed drastically due to this, and before long I started wondering if we were going to make the campsite we intended on. We crossed through fields and along a freshly paved section of the Blue Ridge Parkway at which point Pneumo teased me about driving on it. We spoke frequently throughout the day about plans for lunch in town tomorrow, as our intention is to hitchhike into Waynesboro for a small food resupply. As I've mentioned before, food is a common topic out here. We talked about family, life experiences, music, and lots of other things as the day and mood mellowed out. We were both getting tired by 2000hrs, stopping to get water along the Parkway before pressing on the last 2 miles to our intended campsite. As we sat on the side of the road filtering water, the driver of the slack-pack truck from this morning drove by and doubled back to check on us. Butch, the driver, is a local who hosts hikers and was assisting a group slack pack through the area. A very nice guy, he provided us with Gatorade and wished us luck on our hike before taking off. Pneumo and I donned our headlamps and pressed on the two miles as dark settled over the mountains and the sun disappeared behind layers of ominous clouds.

Having not night hiked since the Smoky Mountains, I forgot how strange it is to rely on LED lamps for travel. We pressed on, climbing over rocky sections, steep hills, and through dark forests as became increasingly frustrated about starting to sweat again. Pulling into the campsite at 2100hrs to find a half dozen tents (belonging to the slack packers) set up. The sky is cloudy but the lights of the small towns and dispersed cities are visible below. I cooked dinner quickly and set up my tent as small mice scurried around looking for food remnants. Finishing dinner, I climbed into bed, tired and ready for sleep.

As I finish typing this, the ominous clouds have followed through with their ever present threat of rain and thunder. Hopefully it will blow over quickly, and we'll be left with a day suited for hiking tomorrow. The plan as of now is a quick hike of the 12 miles to a road that allows hitchhiking to Waynesboro (hence the mileage today- to make tomorrow morning easier) at which point we'll visit the YMCA for a free shower, the laundromat, an all you can eat pizza place, and the Dollar General for a cheap resupply. After a few hours in town we'll head back to the trail and enter into Shenandoah National Park, the beginning of the end of Virginia. With less than 173 miles of this state left, hiking the Shenandoah's will last right up until the state line with West Virginia, and I'll cross over the halfway point of the Appalachian Trail.

Music and bedtime for me. Dawn will be here depressingly soon, but there are places to see and worlds to explore. One foot in front of the other.